The Taste of Impermanence As I sat at my kitchen table sipping strong black coffee and staring out the window at the gray Sydney sky, news filtered in like a cold draft through an open door.
A man had been killed in a fatal stabbing in the city's inner south. My mind wandered to the many hours I'd spent browsing the streets for fresh produce and cooking in my rental kitchen.
The news was just another story among the daily deluge of headlines vying for attention, but as I watched fragments of information trickle in – no description of the suspect, police investigation ongoing, community shaken – something nagged at me.